


Death Is An Old Friend

by angelnygma



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Depression, Family Member Death, Graphic descriptions, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Self-Harm, Suicide, angst and sadness, descriptions of death, lots of death, prepare for tears, y'all are going to hate me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-22 01:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10687230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelnygma/pseuds/angelnygma
Summary: Oswald has lost everything. Then he meets Ed. Can he survive losing him too?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you didn't read the tags some trigger warnings for this story before proceeding: struggles with depression, family member death, graphic descriptions of self harm/suicide attempt, and generally just very sad.

Oswald walked through the yellowing grass. It was almost dusk, the sun near the edge of the horizon. He sighed, hobbling in between the graves as he made it to the back of the field of bodies to his mother’s grave. Gertrude Kapelput. She was his entire life. She was the best woman in the world, he was sure of it. She believed in him when everyone else put him down. She cared for him more than he was certain anyone would ever care for him. He placed the lilies from his cold hand on her grave, sighing as he brought his shaking hand back to his side.

“I want to make you proud mom. I fear I am failing you. You don’t deserve me as a son. I didn’t deserve you as a mother. I hope you are happy, wherever you are,” he whispered under his breath, feeling a tear escape the safety of his eye duct, and quickly wiping it away, eliminating the weakness. He walked home, his head hanging low, more lonely tears barely being kept back by his insistent eyelids.

*****

Oswald sat on the swing. He was in the downtown park, at midday. He knew he should be doing something, working hard, making his mother proud from the grave, but he doubted she was anywhere watching over him. She was just gone now, as was his life purpose. He twisted a blade of grass absentmindedly between his thumb and forefinger, trying to think of anything besides his mother. He felt the slight burn from his arm, when he pressed the iron against it so calmly the night before. It was strange to him how his hands stopped shaking when they were focused on hurting himself. He decided that maybe that was his purpose in life. Hurting himself until he was six feet under the ground, next to his mother. Then he could never hurt again.

A strange man walked briskly over to him, and he looked down at his feet, trying to make it as obvious as possible that he very much did not want to be bothered. The man did not notice his body language, and continued his excited stride towards the blob of a person that was sitting on the swing.

“Hello!” The man addressed him, a smile threatening to split his face in half. “I noticed you looked lonely, and I was lonely, so I think it would solve both of our problems if we were to talk to each other,” the man took a slight pause, looking at Oswald with a genuine look of happiness, one that udderly disgusted Oswald. “I’m Ed, by the way,”

“And I want to be left alone,” mumbled Oswald, still avoiding eye contact.

“Nonsense. You are lonely, it is as clear as day. Well, maybe not as clear as this day;” Ed looked up at the sky full of dark clouds, “but, as clear as a clear day!” His grin returned, somehow even bigger and brighter than normal. Oswald decided the man was annoying, but in a charming way.

“I’m Oswald,” he replied, slightly turning his neck so he was facing the man who had sat in the swing next to him.

“There we go, that wasn’t so hard now was it?” Oswald decided not to reply to that, since it had been very difficult in fact.

“So, may I ask why a man such as yourself is sitting on a swing in a child’s park in the middle of the day in a bathrobe?” Ed looked at him with that genuine smile, the one he could not stand.

“The house was too empty. It is no longer home. Not without mother.” Oswald replied, unsure of why he was answering this strange man’s questions, instead of punching him in the face and walking back to the too-quiet house that he spends most of his days moping in. There was just simply  _ something _ about Ed. Something about him that made Oswald want to talk to him. That made Oswald want to look at him, and see that smile that he hated. That made him feel like maybe there was still something in this world for him, something beside Gertrude who was so cruelly taken from him. That maybe he could find someone to fill that gaping hole in his heart. Just maybe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oswald and Ed become closer. Oswald has problems dealing with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there will be some self harm in this chapter

A week had passed, and Ed had found a way to weave himself into Oswald's life. Oswald found himself out of the house more. He found himself crying less. Sometimes, he even forgot aching pain of Gertrude. 

“Let's get lunch,” said Ed, grabbing Oswald's hand and pulling him out of the door.

“I just woke up Ed!” Oswald stumbled after his friend, feeling what might almost be a smile creep onto his face.

“Oswald, it is nearly noon. You shouldn't be sleeping this much. It isn't good for you.” Ed looked at his shorter friend with a look of genuine concern.

“I'm fine, I promise,” Oswald replied, not wanting to worry Ed with what was really going on. “Cmon, let's get lunch.”

 

Oswald sat in the kitchen, staring into the nothingness of the dark night outside. He wished the darkness could take him away from this life. Then he could be back into his mother's loving arms. But, Ed. He couldn't leave Ed. 

He sighed and stood up, walking over to the stove, staring into the gleaming red burner in front of him. He couldn't deal with this. He needed Gertrude! He reached out with a shaking hand, before pressing it down against the hot stove. He felt his hand burn, and tears began to shell up in his eyes. Even this pain couldn't distract him from his other pain. He pulled his hand off with a hiss, and put his hand under the cold water of the sink, soothing the burn. He felt tears run down his face. He couldn't let Ed know about this. He couldn't have Ed worry about him.

He wrapped his hand up in some gauze, and walked to his bedroom, ignoring the tears streaming down his face. He would just sleep it off. Tomorrow, he would be okay. 


End file.
